


Hot Whiskey Eyes

by RustedHeart



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Human, Closeted Character, Drunk Kissing, F/M, Gay Bar, M/M, Meet-Cute, No actual sex, Sexual Content, at least not yet, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-16 18:09:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2279631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RustedHeart/pseuds/RustedHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is desperate for a job, he needs to pay his share of the rent. Reluctantly he applies for a job at a gay bar called, Pride. He's not out to his flatmate Scott or anyone so trouble is most likely to ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> The first fic I've ever written, so please forgive any transgressions.  
> I'm not from the States so my spelling will be different on some things, like colour...
> 
> Enjoy

Stiles

To say that Stiles was nervous would be the understatement of the decade. He was a giant ball of nerves wrapped around eager desperation. He needed this job. It was his last chance. He had been to countless interviews, but not even Starbucks had panned out for him. The only job that he had actually managed to get didn’t have flexible hours and after a month of missing classes and pissed off lecturers he had had to regretfully quit.

It had been a pretty decent job, the pay wasn’t bad and his fellow colleges had been all but on the same wavelength as him. They had got, or at least endured, his sense of humour almost as good as Scott did. Well with the exception of the beautiful, dark-haired brazen wonder of a woman. Who, after just over a week of Stiles’ retort and ‘wit’ had managed to glare him into silent submission. They worked well together after that, a near silent, well-oiled machine; serving the _eco-chic_ coffee shop’s customers. The coffee had actually been really good, none of the cheap, burnt, drowned in sugar and milk crap you usually find. Their most extravagant, if you call it that, option had been a Creamaccino (basically a cappuccino made with whipped cream instead of steamed milk). They had specialised in uncommon and delicious brews. The beans were bought green and roasted in store.

Even though he no longer worked there, Stiles found himself returning frequently. Not only to visit his new friends but also to grab a cup or two of the delicious coffee. The shop was only a few blocks from his off-campus apartment he shared with Scott and Kira.

“Burt will see you now.” A pleasant voiced intruded into his daydream. Somehow he had managed to forget his anxiety and excitement. He met the cheerful eyes of the dazzling woman who had just informed him that his anxiety was reaching its crescendo; she would give Lydia a run for her money on a good day but Stiles had a feeling that she would be more interested in Lydia than his own gangly self. Not that that mattered; he was here to get a job.

A job he needed desperately or he would forfeit his share of the rent, again. She must have sensed his panic (more likely read it plain and clear on his face) because she added, “Burt’s great and I think you're just who’ve we’ve been looking for.” He couldn’t sense any falsity in her statement and actually allowed himself a morsel of hope. He smiled weakly at her muttering thanks. She beamed at him and pinched his cheek. Her fingers were cool against his flushed skin but her ample dimples reminded him of Alison which brought him some sadness.

Alison had been dating Scott until senior year. Everyone had thought they were destined to marry and have kids running around before long. She was returning from a hunting trip with her gorgeous but very creepy aunt Kate when tragedy struck. According to the police report, the trip hadn’t gone well (something about breach of hunting and weapons permits had lead to a fight between Alison and her aunt) and Kate had indulged in spirits. Drunk, she hadn’t seen the deer until too late, she swerved and the passenger side had been crushed against a tree. Alison had died instantly while Kate walked away with a few minor abrasions and a broken nose. She wasn’t doing much walking now though, three years into her seventeen year sentence.

Stiles stepped through the door and into Burt’s unassuming office. The wall directly behind the equally unassuming man, who Stiles thought looked slightly sheepish (but was suspected him to be demanding and expectant of a high standard), was adorned with a faded Rainbow flag, it had two colours Stiles hadn’t seen on Rainbow flags before. Judging by the heavy frame and thick glass Stiles assumed it must have some special significance. The other three walls sported several black and white photographs of the early LGBT pride marches.

“Ah, mister, Stilinski is it?” the man asked. Stiles had long grown used to the quizzical looks people gave him when they had seen his first name.

“Yes, but I go by Stiles.” Stiles found his own professional sounding tone mildly amusing; the Sherriff would be proud, well maybe not… Stiles didn’t plan on finding out anytime soon.

“Thank god”, Burt laughed, “we didn’t know where to start with your first name.”

“I was named after my mother’s father,” Stiles told him with the feint prickle of sadness that always came with mentioning his mother, “but I think someone lost a bet somewhere and my name was the forfeit.”

Burt laughed whole heartedly at that, Stiles smiled, his anxiety subsiding somewhat.

“Ok. Ok, down to business I guess. That is why you're here after all and I think it’s time to see if you’ll fit here, no need to waste anyone’s time.”

Ah looks like the anxiety is making a return.

Burt noticed, “Now Stiles, no need to be overly nervous, unless you’ve fibbed in your resume. You are twenty-one aren’t you?”

Fibbed? Really who the hell says fibbed?

“No. I mean no, I didn’t lie. I'm twenty-one, second year at…”

“Yes, yes that's all in your resume.”

Burt cut his ramble off before it began, that was good actually, saved him from the awkwardness that usually followed his nervous ramblings.

“I see you previously worked at the Malama I know Sally; she’s a long time friend of mine.”

(During his time there, stiles had learned the name was Hawaiian for respect. Sally had told him it was taken from a Hawaiian saying Malama ka aina which meant respect the land.)

“Yes I did, I loved it there but the schedule conflicted with too many of my classes so I had to quit. Sally told me about your, uh, establishment. She said I might fit here, I don’t know how she knew but…”

“She did, did she? Well I'll have to talk to her about that. I've been looking for a suitable replacement for Danny for a couple months now, she could have told me about you sooner.”

“I, uh, she asked if I wanted a referral but I… I wasn’t…to be honest I was reluctant. I have no experience bartending and I wasn’t sure if I’d be up to scratch.”

Up to scratch? Really Stiles? Really?

“There's only one place I can appreciate coyness Stiles, and since Emma had my couch removed this is no longer my bedroom.”

“I, uh… I… I’m…”

“Stiles.”

“Ok so I wasn’t sure if working in a gay bar would, uh, work for me.”

“See, now was that so difficult? Stiles you're apprehensive, that's to be expected. Frankly I'm not sure I would be interested if you weren’t.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“No. Stiles we all have something about us that leads people to assume one thing or another. I’m unassuming, I look placid and some say sheepish, judging by your blushing face I’d say I hit the proverbial nail on the head, what you might not have guessed is that I extremely particular about the details, the word anal has been known to be used on occasion and not in the way I’d appreciate. Also I spend three hours a week practising Krav Maga. You Stiles have a boyish look that brings innocence and possibly virginal to mind, for all I know you could be the kinkiest slut this side of the state but that's not the assumption you evoke. You understand?”

“Yes. Actually no. I mean like I get what you're saying I just don’t see the uh context...”

“Stiles,” Burt sounded almost exasperated, “do I have to spell it out for you? We have customers, some of whom have a type, you Stiles, with your boyish good looks, pale skin speckled with moles that you somehow pull off and bright eyes and probably a bush tail, would fit quite a few of our customers’ type. You understand now?”

Stiles flushed, he wasn’t quite sure but he thought there was compliment hidden in there somewhere but it was the thought of fitting strangers’ type and exploiting that for cash money that had brought the blood to his cheeks.

“Do you have a problem with that Stiles? Because if you do this venture isn’t going to work.”

“I, no. I guess I just haven’t thought about it like that you know? I sort of figured I’d be serving drinks not you know, flaunting my, uh, assets.” Assets god Stiles “Not that I have a problem with that,’ He added quickly, “Might be nice to have interest for once.”

“Stiles, by the time we’re finished with you, you’ll be fighting them off. I hope your significant other doesn’t have a problem with that.”

“In case the lack of interest comment failed to make it clear I haven’t had any action since I returned from Amsterdam, in July. That's three months Burt. Three!”

He wasn’t sure why he was telling Burt this but he couldn’t bring it up with Scott. As far as Scott knew, Stiles had had a grand total of one sexual adventure in his life and that was with Malia Tate. It was true, Stiles and her had been a thing for a while but their chemistry hadn’t lasted all that long, by graduation they had become good friends. When Scott and Stiles decided to spend time in Europe they had travelled with her to Italy, she was doing the whole ‘study abroad’ thing which was actually really cool and she had even accompanied them to Paris and London before returning to Italy when they went to Berlin. Scott had returned early, he had claimed homesickness but Stiles thought it had more to do with missing Kira.

Stiles had travelled on to the Netherlands alone, upset at first but glad it allowed him to explore his newfound sexuality. Yep Stiles was a team player and now that he had finally come out to himself he could play for both teams.

“Well Stiles,” Burt replied with a sly smile, “let’s see what we can do to rectify that shall we?”

“Does this mean I got the job?”

“Yes Stiles, you got the job.”

It took all of Stiles’ self control to not fist pump right there and then.

“Thanks, uh, really. Thank you! I don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t get this job.”

“Stiles,” Burt said with a knowing tone, “you shouldn’t say things like that. If I were a better businessperson I’d drop the offered wage.”

“I… oh.”

“Yes Stiles, oh. Tell me one thing though. Are you out?”

Stiles’ heart skipped a beat, here it comes. He was about to be rejected because he wasn’t sure how his friends and family would take knowing who he truly was. Stiles settled for answering with a relatively diplomatic answer.

“Given your previous statement I don’t think I should answer that question.”

“No Stiles that fine, one of the other bartenders is in a similar boat. I don’t judge people for keeping that particular secret. We all have our reasons for not sharing it; just long as there won’t be any scenes in my bar.”

“No scenes got it.”

“Good, now if you would call Emma in for me.”

Stiles did as he was asked.

Burt had Emma take Stiles shopping for a new wardrobe, apparently that didn’t just happen in movies. At first Stiles didn’t see what was wrong with his current attire but that changed when they entered the first shop.

Four hours later Stiles had over two dozen outfits that displayed and concealed his body to varying degrees. Emma had tried to persuade him into getting a pair of crotch-less underwear but he refused.  He did however give in to getting a pair of lace boxer-briefs mostly because he was curious as to how the lace would feel on his delectates. Thankfully she didn’t try forcing him into getting any g-strings. All in all his underwear collection had more than doubled as had his shoe collection.

When they returned to the bar she showed him the change room and the cupboard-cum-locker where he could store his new wardrobe.

“There are showers through there, they're private so you don’t have to worry about flaunting your jewels about and you can keep your new wardrobe here so no one at home needs to know. The shift usually starts at six and the doors open at seven but come by tomorrow at around five. That way Danny can start with you a little early and you can meet Derek, he’ll take some getting used to but I've heard that the eye candy is totally worth it. I wouldn’t try anything though if I were you. No one not even Burt knows his orientation and I've seen him reject customers so hard they cried, so heads up.”

Stiles just gaped at her. Was he expected to work with this brute?

“Hey don’t be scared, I've never seen him actually bite. See you tomorrow Stiles.”

“Yeah… tomorrow… at five…”

What have you gotten yourself into this time Stiles?

Stiles worries soon faded to excitement. He got the job. He fucking got it and he wasn’t going to default on his share of the rent! When he got back to their apartment he couldn’t sit still. Scott, who had a paper due the next day, kicked him out. So Stiles went for a run in the park a few blocks over. He could use the gym on campus for free but he preferred the open air when he was running.

Half an hour into his run he was distracted, only Stiles could get distracted while running,  by what Emma had said about the guy he was expected to work with. He was wondering if this guy had actually made a customer cry once or if she had exaggerated it a bit. Then he ran into a brick wall.

A wall that shouted, “Watch where the fuck your going assfuck!”

A wall made entirely out of muscle apparently, and extremely attractive wall with three day scruff on his face which exaggerated his perfect cheekbones and forced Stiles to abort whatever retort he had had on his lips and instead mumble and apology.

Apparently his apology was accepted because the Greek god of a man; that Stiles thought even, straight-as-an-arrow Scott would be slightly attracted to; awkwardly offered him a hand which Stiles took, it was warm and soft and strong all at the same time.

Back on his feet Stiles apologised again.

“It’s ok, just watch were you going next time. Where are you sprinting to anyway?”

“I, Uh, I'm just running some nerves off. I'm starting a new job tomorrow and I'm supposed to be working with this guy and apparently he’s really hot but a total asshole and yeah I'm running the nerves off you know as I do when I have nerves and get kicked out my apartment because I can't keep still because of the nerves so I have to run and I think I've already said that twice in this sentence.”

The Greek god of a man watched Stiles with a small smile on his face. He looked vaguely familiar but Stiles was sure that if he had ever seen this fine specimen of a man before, he would remember it.

Wait did I just out myself to a complete stranger?!

“Well I hope it goes well, but seriously watch were you're going I think I'm gonna have to ice my shoulder when I get home.”

“Sorry again…”

No Stiles don’t do it don’t! It’s a bad idea and you're going to get punched; in the face probably. He could stop himself.

“Hey could I make it up to you? Coffee? Or a drink maybe?”

“Sorry on my way to work; rain check?”

“Damn! Ok rain check, I'm holding you to that.”

“Deal.” The guy replied instantly.

Stiles gave him an awkward wave goodbye and they went their separate ways. After a dozen steps Stiles turned to see if he could still see him, he could and the guy was watching Stiles. Stiles gave him a big smile and another wave which the Greek god of a man returned, albeit with a smaller smile and only raising his hand a bit but that was good enough for Stiles. He decided he was going to stop by the coffee shop to tell those friends the good news, hell maybe he’d even come out to them.

It was only when Isaac asked him the guys name that he realised he had neither his name nor his number. That's fine though, Stiles wouldn’t be deterred.

“Guess I'll just have to go running in the park more often,” he told Isaac and Erica, who had come over after dealing with a customer, “besides, it’s not like getting fitter is a bad thing right?”

“Only you Stilinski could turn stalking into an exercise.” Isaac teased. Stiles retorted by sticking his tongue out.

“Wait hold up. Are none of you surprised I'm into guys?”

“Nope” Erica popped the ‘p’ while Isaac shook his head.

“I figured you were gay and closeted or something.”

“Bi actually, I'm pretty sure I hit on Erica enough for that to be at last a bit obvious.”

“I always thought you were overcompensating, but know that I know better… The fuck Stiles? You were pretty fucking creepy!”

“What? I was not!”

“Eh” Isaac added.

“Ok well I'm sorry I guess… didn’t realise I was being a creep. I'll tone it down from now on.”

Stiles smiled at Erica who smiled back at first but it soon turned into a smirk. “Yep, tone it down by stalking some poor sap in a park.”

Before Stiles could retort Isaac asked, “Hey how come you never hit on me?”

“Don’t get me wrong Isaac, you're hella cute and you pull off a scarf off like nobody’s business and your curls are also beyond cute but you’re just not my type.” Stiles shrugged.

“You're right Erica, I'm not his type and he’s still creeping on me.”

“Ugh!”  Stiles threw his hand up in the air; luckily his to-go cup was empty. “I’m leaving before you guys can insult me anymore. Say hi to Laura for me.”  

Stiles returned to the apartment, tired and sweaty. After a shower he flopped onto his bed. He took a few selfies to post for the anons that had requested them #anon ask #crazy day #new job tomorrow #fresh out the shower #I’m naked #but you can't see

He scrolled though his feed for a while before checking through his new followers’ blogs. He followed two back before he got up to make some dinner.

^_^

* * *

 

Derek

Derek had seen the guy coming but until the moment before impact he was sure the guy would change course.

Derek, broad shoulders, usually scowling and eternally dressed in black, was not used to being looked over. He was sure that he stuck out like a giant, awkward thumb so the thought that someone not seeing him and practically sprinting full speed into him was not even a remote possibility. It wasn’t until that moment before impact that he realised what was happening; this guy must either have it out for him or was running for his life.  

He twisted at the hips and the poor guy practically bounced off his shoulder. It took him a moment for him to feel the pain. Fuck! If this imbecile has fucked his arm up Derek’s going to kick his ass.

Once Derek saw the dazed look on the poor sap’s face he regretted his outburst. The guy was kind of cute, but in a masculine way. His arms were covered in dark hair and, where his shirt had lifted up; Derek could see his pale abs dusted with moles of varying sizes and the dark trail of hair that lead to happier places.

Distracted by the skin on display, it took Derek a moment to realise the guy was mumbling something barely understandable. He assumed it was an apology of some sort. Their eyes locked and Derek wasn’t certain but he thought he saw lust intermingled with the obvious embarrassment.

Despite what one might think, Derek was no stranger to rejection. It sort of comes with the territory. Derek often felt vague jealousy of his straight brethren. They didn’t have to worry about starting fights because some asshole took offence to being hit on by a guy, sure Derek usually came out the victor but that's beside the point.

He was late for work and as attracted to this guy as he was, he couldn’t risk getting into something in the middle of the park. So instead of making a move on the guy, he offered him a reluctant hand.

The guy’s grip was firm but sweaty, which was to be expected really, he had been practically running for his life a few seconds ago.

The guy apologised again, with words Derek could actually hear.

Derek spoke back to him, actually asked questions while the guy babbled nonsense. That was sort of unusual for Derek, not only talking to a stranger but actually asking questions. The guys random babbling and repetitive sentences only added to his cuteness.

I wonder what he would say if I called him cute right now? Would he be insulted? He probably wouldn’t take it as the compliment I mean it as. Probably isn’t even into guys; not that has always been a problem before. But do I really want something casual with this guy?

Derek’s internal monolog was interrupted by a simple statement that answered at least one of his unasked questions.

“…working with this guy and apparently he’s really hot…”

Derek felt his lips smile on their own accord.

Ok that is not normal. What is it about this guy?

Before Derek could go and make his life more complicated by asking out this guy; who was even more awkward than he was and who rambled and somehow made Derek not only ask questions but fucking smile; Derek gave him a generic (albeit genuine) well wishing and told him to watch where he was going before finishing with a joke.

God, now I'm joking.

The guy chuckled at that before apologising for the third time. Derek was going to dismiss this adorably cute guy before one of them put a foot in it but he noticed a look on the guys face; a look that signalled an internal debate.

Something akin to hope bloomed in Derek. And try as he may Derek couldn’t get the words ‘I really have to go. Gonna be late for work.’ to leave his mouth until the guy had said his piece.

For once his unwelcome hope was rewarded. The guy actually asked him out. And Derek was so tempted to blow off work, or at least be an hour or two late but he really couldn’t do that to Burt and Danny. He actually excitedly agreed to the guy holding him to his rain check.

They went their separate ways. The guy walking instead of sprinting now, Derek could swear he had a skip in his step. When Derek got to the traffic light he turned around to see if he could still see the guy. He could and he eagerly inspected the guy’s ass in the light gray sweatpants. He couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed when the guy turned and caught Derek watching.

It was only when Danny asked what’s wrong with him, that he’s smiling so much that he realised he had no way of organising the rain check. It had felt like they had known each other for forever. He felt comfortable around the guy in a way he had only ever felt around his family and closest friends.

Shit-fuck the one guy I'm actually relaxed around, and he’s into me and I go and forget to ask his name and number. Only you Derek only fucking you could fuck a chance meeting up this bad. Fucking pathetic.

Derek went to get dressed in the change rooms.

He wasn’t ashamed of his body, honestly how could he be, so he ignored the private stalls and treated the locker room as any other. He had a vague fantasy playing in the back of his mind. It went along the lines of the guy from the park randomly showing up at the bar and them spending the entire night chatting and getting to know each other. Of course that was sort of impossible; it was two4one Wednesdays that usually drew a crowd. He would be up to his ears in flirty college students until the early hours. Somehow none of them seemed to notice him on campus the next day. Still the fantasy was playing in the back of his mind and wouldn’t ease up. Mildly aroused, he decided to dress extra kinky that night, push himself to the limits of what he was comfortable with. A leather jockstrap that would showcase his well defined ass but still allow him to keep his decorum (party at the back business in the front) thankfully they were lined with soft cotton inside to prevent chafing. Next he put on his only leather chest harness. Sure most of the kids who frequented to bar didn’t know the meaning or use the harness but they liked it all the same.

If nothing else I'm going to make more tips tonight than I have in a while.

Dressed he went to help Danny with the last of the prep. He ignored Danny’s raised eyebrows and went about his job.

Needless to say the guy never pitched, he did say he was starting a new job the next day, but still Derek couldn’t help but being a little disappointed. But the tips made up for any disappointment he felt. He had more than doubled his month’s pay in one night.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How will Derek react when he sees Stiles at work the next day?  
> How much of a disaster will Stiles' first day be?  
> Will Stiles have to endure any initiation rituals?  
> How much like the Coyote Ugly bar will this be? 
> 
> Please don't hesitate to let me know about any mistakes I've made or any tags that I should include. 
> 
> I'm a horrible procrastinator so expect updates to be sporadic.  
> Sterek is what gets me through the day, everyday.


	2. Rain Check

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tell me Stiles, how do you feel about hair removal?
> 
> When Stiles finally meets Derek; he falls hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK so here's instalment #2  
> I've never been waxed so I took some liberties, but kept things (I hope) vague enough that that won't be a problem. 
> 
> Very mild angst about having to come out in the future. It's nothing really but forewarned is forearmed(?). 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Stiles

Stiles woke the next day to the incessant buzzing of his phone. He reached for it on the nightstand. It wasn’t a number he recognised so he refused on those grounds to answer but while trying to put the phone down it slipped and the call was answered.

_Fucking touch screens._

He resigned himself to groggily answering the call.

“Stiles! I'm so glad I got a hold of you. I've been trying to reach you for like an hour now.” Emma’s shrill voice poured through the speaker. He glanced at his bedside clock; it was too early in the morning for this.

“It’s eight fifteen.”

“Sure is, I didn’t wake you did I? You have classes don’t you?”

“Yeah you did, my classes were cancelled for today.”

“Oh that's perfect! You don’t have any plans do you?”

Stiles grumbled something vaguely akin to a no. He was without doubt not a morning person.

“Even better. Tell me Stiles, how do you feel about hair removal?”

As it turns out Stiles was ok with hair removal. More than ok actually, he was sort of excited, not for the pain but for the smoothness that would follow. He managed to contain his eagerness enough to insist that no sensitive areas be addressed, at least until he was used to the whole process.  Emma had laughed at that. Stiles really had no idea what he was getting himself into, as if he would be able to work a full shift after a back, crack and sack (not that Stiles had back hair).

They met at the salon where Emma introduced Stiles to her preferred beautician.

It wasn’t as bad as Stiles had been expecting but still, it was no walk in the park. Emma had an hour before she had to be back at work so Stiles dragged her to the coffee shop. It didn’t take much to convince her; she loved their coffee as much as he did.

Stiles was halfway to introducing Emma and Erica when Erica all but squealed.

“Emma! It’s been so long! You never come by anymore!”

Emma replied with a simple, “Erica.”

“That's all I get? No squeals of joy. No sorry that I never come by anymore? No nothing? Just an _Erica_?” If it weren’t for her smiling eyes Stiles would have thought she was genuinely offended.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’d be a killer actress?”

“You better not be coming onto me Stiles or so help me I'll set Laura on you.”

“Pish, like Laura would have anything to do with your childish vengeance. And no Erica, that was a genuine compliment. Besides I'm totally infatuated with my nameless Greek god.”

“Uh huh. Like you could get over this so quickly?” She gestured to herself. Emma nodded in agreement.

It was only when Stiles told her about the chance encounter in the park the day before that she believed him. Judging by the wistful glances she was sending Erica’s way when she thought no one was looking; Stiles suspected he wasn’t the only one in the room infatuated with a total hottie. _That was actually kinda creepy. I need to work on that._

****  


Emma stayed for a while, they sat talking about nothing in particular, Erica and Emma catching up and Stiles adding his own two cents worth here and there. After she left Stiles showed Erica he newly waxed legs and arms. He refrained from showing her his completely smooth abdomen until she lifted his shirt up without his permission. Stiles batted her hands away.

“Bad-touch Erica! Bad-touch.”

She sighed and tilted her head to the side shifted her weight to one leg. She continued giving him a pointed look and after a moment he surrendered and lifted his shirt. She gave him an agreeing nod. Laura chose that point to arrive for her shift.

She gave Stiles’ still slightly read abdomen one look and he dropped his shirt.

“Sometimes I don’t know if she hates me or not. I mean she’s awesome and all so it would suck if she actually did hate me.”

“She’s just Laura; she doesn’t have time for your shit Stiles. I'm off in ten. Do you want me to come over? Help you keep your nerves in check?”

“You totally just want to make fun of me. But yes. Please”

She nodded and left him to help a customer who was glaring daggers at her.

 

After her shift finished they walked to Stiles apartment. It wasn’t the first time she had come around. She and Isaac had met Scott and Kira a few times before. Isaac and Scott had seemed to hit it off. So Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if he as Scott had made plans without him.

He would be lying if the thought of Isaac and Scott hanging together without him didn’t make him a little nervous. Scott was his best friend, practically a brother but he wasn’t ready for Scott to know about his sexuality yet. He knew it was very unlikely; but he was worried that it would make things awkward between them. He had never heard Scott say anything especially homophobic but Stiles couldn’t risk it; not after so many years of friendship. It really wasn’t worth the risk.

“Hey Erica, you know I'm not out to anyone right?”

“You're out to Isaac and me. And Emma and your new boss and basically everyone at work is going to assume…”

“Yeah, yeah you know what I mean. I'm not ready for everyone to know yet, especially not my dad and Scott. Do you think Isaac would say anything to Scott?”

“No Stiles, I don’t think so but if you don’t want him to say anything you should tell him. You and Scott are so close; it’s weird that you would keep this part of yourself from him, you do know that right? And it’d be easy for Isaac to forget that you're keeping this from him.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Do you know how guilty I feel? Every time we talk about girls and stuff I just want to tell him but… but what if things get weird? I can't lose almost two decades of friendship.”

She had dealt with closeted people before, she understood why Stiles was afraid and she would try to not press the subject she suspected that Scott probably suspected at the very least. But if Stiles was going to keep living in his closet he was going to have to deal with certain unpleasant truths, truths that would lead to more lies and more complications and unhappiness.

“What’s your story Stiles?”

“My story?”

“Yes. What are you going to tell Scott and your dad when they ask what you’re doing?”

“I told Scott that I'm working at a bar... the truth basically. Just with a few key details left out.”

“Ok and when he wants to come visit you at work?”

“Scott… Visit… at work… at the gay bar… where I'll be working…”

“You didn’t think this through did you?”

“Fuck.”  Stiles realised that he had stopped walking so he focused all his energy on getting moving again. They were nearing his apartment now. Scott would probably be home. His classes finished at two on a Thursday and he had papers that were due soon so he would probably be working on those.  

He found himself half an hour later sharing a light, mid-afternoon lunch with Scott and Erica. Scott was talking animatedly about his paper, it wasn’t about anything Stiles found particularly interesting but Scott was really excited so he let him go on about it, only half listening. He added the necessary sounds where he thought they we supposed to be given.

“Stiles!”

“Wha… What Scott?”

“You're not even listening to me!”

“I was! I am.”

“So you agree then?”

“Yes, of course.” Stiles had no idea what he just agreed to he just hoped it wasn’t something that would come back to bite him in the ass.

“So you agree that Barbie was the best and most underrated of all the Backstreet Boys?”

“What? Scott, that doesn’t even make sense buddy.”

“I know it doesn’t Stiles. But I spent the last minute talking about how Barbie was the best member the Backstreet Boys ever had and you agreed! You so weren’t even listening.” Scott sounded genuinely hurt. And Stiles wasn’t surprised. He didn’t often zone out on Scott especially when he was talking about something that really mattered to him but Erica had really rattled him. He had half a mind to come out to Scott here and now… it wasn’t the right time or place, ok the place was alright but still, he had to leave for work in a couple hours and Scott didn’t deserve to have that bombshell dropped on him and be left to work through all the revelations alone.

When he eventually did come out to Scott he wanted to be there to answer any and all questions Scott had, he wanted to focus all his energy on making their friendship work post his coming out  and he wanted Scott to be there when he finally told his father.

“I’m sorry Scotty. My mind is just sort of overloaded right now.”

“Oh yeah, you start the new job tonight! I completely forgot. I guess I can forgive you, especially if you give us a round on the house!” Scott was as excited to see Stiles’ new work as Stiles was terrified that he would. But Scott seemed totally oblivious to the sheer terror that was taking over Stiles.

His mouth worked open and closed trying to push words out even though his brain had yet to formulate any reasonable excuse. Thankfully Erica came to the rescue.

“Scotty, sweetheart; its Stiles’ first day. Don’t you think that he should get a hang of it before people come by to see him? He’s going to be very stressed and anxious and we all know how much of a klutz Stiles can be even on a good day. Did he tell you he ran full speed into someone in the park yesterday?”

The love he had been directing at Erica vanished in an instant at the mention of his Greek god look alike. She just grinned and winked at him. She would help to get him out of a sticky situation but she would make him pay for it.

“Really?” Scott asked grinning at Stiles. He really looked like an innocent puppy begging for details like they were a treat.

Stiles grumbled something that came across as the affirmative.

“Oh my god Stiles! Erica’s right; you are such a klutz! What happened?”

“Nothing,” Stiles groaned.

“Oh no, you are so giving me details. You don’t get to keep stories this good from me.”

“Nothing happened ok? I was running in the park, because you kicked me out, and I was distracted and I ran into this guy. I fell on my ass. He told me to watch where I was going before he helped me up. End of story.”

Scott looked sceptical while Erica gave him a look that clearly said _this was the perfect opportunity to tell him Stiles. I gave you the perfect opportunity and you wasted it._ At least that's what Stiles thought it said; he would have to ask her later.

“Stiles… what happened to your arms?”

Stiles looked at his arms he couldn’t see anything wrong with them. He lifted the sleeve of his t-shirt so expose the bruise on his shoulder from where he had run into his Greek god look alike.

“Ouch,” Scott and Erica said at the same time. Before Scott explained what he had actually been talking about. “Your hair, Stiles did you get waxed? You missed last month’s rent but you have cash to get waxed?”  

“I…What no.”

“Stiles you had the darkest arm hair this side of bear and now you're as smooth as a baby’s bottom. You don’t get that smooth from shaving and I haven’t seen any hair removal creams in the trash so you got waxed.”

“Ok I don’t know if I should be worried about how much you know about hair removal,”   _great Stiles, typical closet case move, shift the accusation back on the accuser, could you be any more obvious?_ “But it’s for work. My boss’s assistant thought I would get more tips if I was less hairy. So no beards anytime in the near future regardless of how hot I would look with a five o’clock shadow. And she charged it to the company card so I didn’t spend a cent.”

Scott eyed him suspiciously but let the subject drop. Stiles glanced at Erica; her shoulders were shaking with laughter she was only just managing to keep silent.

“Screw you guys I'm going to go get ready.”

The moment he closed the door he heard her laughter.

^_^

* * *

 

Stiles arrived ten minutes early. He figured it was better to be early but now, standing outside the front entrance, panic descended. He didn’t know if he should go in through the front door like he had for his interview or if there was an employee’s entrance down the side that he was supposed to use. He began to sweat despite the seasonable chill. He walked up to the black door twice, chickening out both times. _Come on Stiles! You look like an idiot. Someone you know is going to come by and ask what you're doing outside a gay bar so suck it up and…_ Just then an attractive guy wearing a hot pink letterman with the bar’s logo printed on the back walked up to the heavy black door and pulled it open. He turned halfway through the doorway and looked at Stiles.

“You the new kid?”

“I…Uh yeah,” Stiles answered sheepishly.

“Well come on in. I won’t bite.” He gave Stiles a dazzling smile, flashing his dimples.

Stiles followed him inside, closing the door behind him.

“How long have you been pacing outside the door?”

“Not long.” Stiles answered scratching the back of his neck guiltily.

“Didn’t k now if you could come in?”

“No, I wasn’t sure if I there was an employee’s entrance I was supposed to use.”

The guy laughed at that while shrugging his way out of his letterman. Once he had it off Stiles managed to find his manners and held out his hand which the guy took.

“Stiles.”

“Danny, you should go see Burt, you remember the way to his office?”

“Yep, through those doors and up the stairs.”

“Good. When you're done there come find me in the change room, I need a shower but should be out by the time you get down. Oh and if you see Derek, don’t let him scare you off. He’s usually glaring about something but last night he was all grins so maybe you’ll be lucky and tonight will be a repeat.”

Stiles assumed Derek must be the super hot asshole who he would be required to work with. Danny’s easy going nature had relived him of most of anxiety but seeing Emma’s dimples melted the last remnants away. She ushered him into Burt’s office where the middle-aged, Krav maga practicing man was filing his nails. He looked up as they entered the room and smiled.

“How was the wax Stiles? Not too sensitive I hope.”

They spoke for a few minutes mostly about what Burt expected of Stiles, which they had discussed the day before but Stiles thought that it was more to reassure Burt than anything else.

“OK Stiles, I hope you’re ready for tonight. Normally I wouldn’t have a new hire working their first shift on a Thursday, what with Thirsty Thursdays, but Danny’s last day in coming up and I really need to see if you’ll work out or not. So I'm throwing you in the deep end. Sink or swim.” Burt said; not without some affection.

Emma must have seen the worry bug eating into Stiles’ brain ( _has my face always been a billboard?_ ) because she was trying to reassure him, “I wouldn’t have got a new wardrobe or introduced you the best beautician in the city if I didn’t think you were perfect for the job. Besides, you're desperate enough to make this work.”

She had a point, they had spent more money in the last two days than Stiles had spent in the last three months and he really was desperate. They were at the bottom of the stairs and were making their way to the employee change rooms now.

“You’ll love Danny he’s awesome. And those dimples,” she hummed appreciatively, “we made a pact last year, if either of us ever has to sleep with the opposite sex; we’ll be there for each other.” She winked and Stiles chuckled.

“Yeah I met him when I got here; he seems like a great guy.” Stiles told her, “And he warned me about… Derek? But he said Derek was smiling yesterday or something so maybe I'll be lucky.” The fact that someone just smiling made news around here worried Stiles. _What have I gotten myself into?_ Stiles asked himself, not for the first time that hour.

“Oh yes, Derek was practically grinning like a loon. He didn’t even threaten to kill a guy reached over the counter to pinch his ass. Normally Derek would have had the guy begging for mercy even before the bouncers came over.”

“Well hopefully he’s having another good day then, I've had my life threatened by more than one pacifist before. Apparently my wit isn’t that witty and I make biting remarks. I think people just need to grow a pair. Not that you… I’m going to shut up now before I make a new enemy.”

Emma laughed as they pushed through the door and into the change room.

“You don’t need to shower or anything do you?”

“Nope, scrubbed myself spotless. If you like we can go outside, I’d put the Cullens to shame with my sparkles.” In truth he had gingerly cleaned himself, forgoing his exfoliating soap altogether and only using lukewarm water, the last thing he needed was skin irritation on his first shift because he stupidly scrubbed after waxing.

Inside Danny was talking to two women, a near perfect strawberry blonde ( _if things don’t work out with my Greek god…_ ) while the other screamed predator.  Her nails were painted inky black and her perfectly styled hair flowed beautifully over her shoulders.

“Lydia, Kali this is Stiles. Stiles, Lydia and Kali”

“Hi.” Stiles flashed his hand at them. Kali smirked while Lydia flicked her hair and looked him up and down before giving him a curt nod in return.

Danny came over to Stiles then. He had a white towel wrapped around his waist, clinging desperately to his hips. He noticed Stiles noticing.

“I’m not your type Stiles. I might look like your type but I’m not. I’d ruin you Stiles, break you in two and no one would try putting the pieces together again.”

“Don’t listen to him. He thinks he’s god’s gift to us all just because he hooked himself an Abercrombie model.” Lydia told him

“Nice!” Stiles saw him in a new light. His hand twitched at his side and he only just managed to not raise his hand for a high five.

“Yeah but it was her sloppy seconds.”

“Really Kali” They both exclaimed. She just shrugged and sauntered into the showers.

“So Stiles, do you know what you're wearing tonight?” Both Lydia and Emma perked at that.

He emerged from the stall in a dark blue, deep v neck that framed his collarbones perfectly. His dark, ripped jeans showed glimpses of the white boxer briefs underneath. They would no doubt ‘pop’ in the UV light. They crowded him, pulling at his top here and stuffing it into his jeans there. It had fit him perfectly before but now it was tugged tight against his body, showcasing his slim waist and exaggerated his small, but defined pecks. They pushed him across the room and down into a chair in front of a mirror. Danny began working with his hair.

On the days that stiles really tried, he would spend a total of no more than five minutes styling his hair, what? Messed and too cool to care worked for him, or so he thought. In the ten minutes Danny had taken to style his hair people had come in and out and were milling about, a few had showered someone was sitting in the chair next to him but when Stiles had tried to look around Danny had flicked his ear. He hadn’t kept this still in years.  When Danny finally let him up he ran on the spot for a couple seconds and shook the feint pins and needles out of his arms.

“You done?” Danny asked. Stiles retorted by sticking out his tongue. Lydia fixed his top again and then looped a bulky leather belt through the loops. Emma smacked his ass and told him to, “go getum tiger.” _What the hell does that even mean?_

^_^

* * *

 

Derek

It was almost half past six when Derek got to the bar. He had been hung up helping his younger sister, Cora move and then he had gotten stuck in traffic. He was supposed to have been here an hour ago to help Danny train the new guy but he didn’t feel too guilty about that. Everyone knew he wasn’t going to do much helping with training anyone even if he had been an hour early.

He gave the newbie a cursory glance while rushing to the change room. Nice ass. Danny was busy going over the basic drinks, if this kid didn’t know how to mix a simple vodka and soda he wasn’t going to last the night, cute butt or no.

He jumped in the shower, focusing on getting the essentials clean instead of going for full body wash. Two minutes later he was out, padding over to his locker. He decided to go with a simple pinstripe waistcoat and jeans. He wasn’t feeling particularly kinky tonight and also, he admitted grudgingly, he didn’t want to make to new guy uncomfortable. Not yet anyway.

He walked up to the bar, towel-dried hair still damp. He could hear Danny going over the safe words.

“… comes on too strong its _orange cherry shot_ but if you feel actually threatened its _royal red_. It’s not often that you’ll have to use a safe word. We keep an eye out for each other.

The new guy was sitting precariously on the edge of the barstool behind the register, his feet resting on the cross support between the stools’s legs, his back to Derek. Danny smiled when he made eye contact.

“Nice to see you finally grace us with your presence.”

Derek glared at him. He had managed to get within reaching distance by the time the new guy turned his head to see who Danny was talking to.

_No! It can’t! Oh god it is! Shit!_ Derek ran his hand through his hair trying to smooth it down. He stared at the new guy; it was the guy from the park, the guy that had run full tilt into him. Derek could practically hear the click when the guy dragged his eyes to his face and realised who Derek was and then he was falling.

^_^

* * *

 

Stiles

He was listening to Danny as he ran through the safe words, willing himself to commit them to memory. _Blue ice_ meant you needed the toilet, a key word Stiles and his puny bladder would no doubt need. _Green Tequila_ means that everything was OK. _Orange cherry shot_ was if a customer was making unwanted advances and wouldn't take no for an answer. _Royal red_ was only for when things had to stop there and then. Saying _royal red_ usually ended up with someone getting kicked out and possibly banned from returning. Stiles was both comforted that there were safe words and concerned that they were necessary.

Danny had just finished running through them again when he looked over his shoulder and spoke to someone. It took Stiles a moment to realise that the hot but assholeish Derek was probably standing right behind him.

He turned his head and his eyes landed, completely unintentionally, on Derek’s groin area. His dark jeans held his package snugly, feeding Stiles’ imagination. His eyes dragged up Derek’s super toned body. Lingering on the quarter sleeve tattoos that climbed up his muscular shoulder. When Stiles’ eyes finally reached Derek’s face he recognised him immediately.

Suddenly Stiles’ was flailing, trying desperately, but in vain, to get his balance. The barstool he’d been half sitting on teetered for a second before shooting out from underneath him he fell hard on his ass and the blood rushed to his face. Mortified he looked up at Derek.

Derek, his Greek god had a name. And tattoos! And what might be a fond smile on his face.

Danny asked Stiles if he was alright but it he sounded strangely distant to Stiles. He eyes didn’t leave Derek’s face. _Transfixed_ popped into Stiles’ head and he giggled. A manly, masculine giggle.

A hand appeared in front of his face and Derek lost his smile, in fact he all but bared his teeth. It filled Stiles with something warm. Derek stepped forward quickly, smacking Danny’s hand away and offered Stiles his own.

Stiles grabbed it tight and Derek hauled him to his feet.

Derek’s free hand landed on Stiles’ hip pulling him closer. Stiles pressed his own free hand against Derek’s chest.

“Hi.”

Derek blushed. He honest to god blushed at Stiles’ simple hello.

“How many times are you going to fall for me before I get you name?”

^_^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much like my version of Stiles, I'm closeted. So I'll have you know that in the interest of accuracy I have already fielded a minefield of questions.  
> Questions like, why do you want to know what it's like to get waxed. and Do I think that women would make advances on a guy (the ignorances of some people eh?). My personal favourite is: so what's you story about... eeek
> 
> Hope everyone enjoyed!  
> Let me know if there's anything I should have tagged or that you would like to see in the future of this fic.
> 
> I'm a horrible procrastinator so expect updates to be sporadic.  
> Sterek is what gets me through the day, everyday.


	3. Post-its

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' first night went well only now he's super, super tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: a conversation about sexual orientation takes place between two characters. One character is clumsy with their words and it might be seen as internal or maybe ingrained homophobia. Its only a little bit and in my opinion not that bad. But if such things make you uncomfortable maybe this isn't the fic for you because it is a closeted/coming out fic. 
> 
> Thanks for all the subscriptions, this goes out to all of you!  
> Hope everyone enjoys

Stiles

So as it turns out Stiles was actually a pretty good bartender. Which isn’t really all that surprising, he was a people’s person after all and he had spent more than half a year backpacking across Europe, working at bars and restaurants. Sure he had never worked under these sort of conditions and with this level of intensity but he was practically a natural.

It might also have been because it wasn’t an overly busy night but Stiles’ preferred to think that it was because he was a natural.

The night had actually gone really well, Derek had taken over  his training from Danny, who spent most of the night gaping at Derek. At least when he wasn’t busy sharing conspiratorial conversations with Lydia, Kali and the two other bartenders.

He and Derek fit together seamlessly, working together as if they had been at this for years. Stiles put it down to his hyper awareness of Derek.  It was if he was tuned into Derek, picking up on the subtle wind currents he left in his wake or something.

He would start mixing a drink, something a little more complicated than a simple spirit and soda, and before he could start looking for a bottle Derek would be there, bottle in hand.

The customers seemed to really appreciate their chemistry too. More than a few made comments, one guy asked how long they’d been together; the guy didn’t quite believe Derek when he said an hour. Stiles tried to calm his heart at Derek’s ‘together’ implication.

They had to empty the tip jar twice and at the end of the night after cashing up and cleaning down the bar they counted the tips to share between the two of them. They found no less than six numbers, two asking for ‘three or more-somes’.

It was three in the morning when Derek had driven them to a 24 hour coffee shop a few blocks from the bar.

Two and a bit hours later Stiles was emerging from the shower, despite probably being a natural he had managed to spill copious amounts of alcohol and mix on him during the night; he was clumsy, sue him. And it wasn’t only his fault, Derek, while performing bottle flips, had slipped (on a drink Stiles had spilled so maybe it was all his fault) and splashed grenadine on Stiles.

He was dog-tired, he had been on the go for over twenty hours, had popped his waxing cherry, discovered his future lover’s name, worked with said future lover, possibly fallen in love with said lover (although it’s altogether too early for that) and had classes in less than seven hours, if it weren’t for the alcohol that had been seeping into his pores he would have gone straight to bed, but had considered it all the same. 

But he was clean now and stumbling through the apartment in the general direction of his room.

Too soon he was woken by what sounded like sniggering that he  had been trying his best to ignore. And why was his room so bright? It didn’t face east so it had no right to be this bright this early, unless it wasn’t early, he room caught the westerly rays of sunset and if it was this bright he was fucked, it meant he had missed all his classes **and** was going to be late for work. He open his eyes a crack, it was too bright dammit. And then, bless his soul, Scott stepped between him and the bastard sun, providing some shade. Scott had a steaming cup coffee, Stiles’ favourite brew, brought home from his ex place of employment. Scott’s hair was ruffled, which could mean one of two things. Either he had spent the day at home to work on his thesis and had yet to shower or he had just had some special Scott and Kira (Scira? Kiott?) time and had come to spend his post coitus bliss Stiles  and Stiles’ favourite coffee; which was sort of messed up considering that Scott was an epic cuddle monster and Kira was always his willing victim.

“Comfortable?” Scott asked, his voice sounded amused but still a little sleepy but not in a post sex way, more like a just woke up sort of way which it really shouldn’t be, Scott never missed class, ever, and if he had stayed home to work on his thesis he definitely wouldn’t be sleepy ok maybe he would; _hence the coffee?_

“Scotty!” Stiles sounded croaky, he tried to stretch but his feet hit something and something else dug into his neck harshly. “Ung,” Stiles complained, twisting into the foetal position. He was now eye-to-knee with Scott. Scott was wearing a much worn pair of boxers so his tanned, hairy and slightly knobbly knees were bear but Stiles was looking past them confused. He didn’t have a love seat in his room, or a coffee table for that matter. Realisation dawned on him.

He had exited the shower, half lidded eyes, freshly brushed teeth. He had been doing his best to keep quiet so as to not wake up his flat mates but his eyes had closed on their own accord and he had walked straight into the three-seater couch. He collapsed onto it and decided to rest for a bit. His eyes closed again and well apparently he had not so much rested as sleep.

He glanced down and discovered why he was so cold. His damp towel had fallen off during his impromptu couch nap and was naked as the day he was born and about as cold too.

He made a nasal sound of discomfort that consisted of mostly of consonants, “Scotty,” he whined, “’m tired. Had coffee with bartender after,” he added in a half formed sentence assuming Scott would be able to fill in the missing words, “only back at five morning.”

“Come one big guy let’s get you into your bed before you scar Kira.”

Stiles grunted another non committal noise which meant something along the line of ‘ _ok but I have no energy so unless you do all the work, Scotty, ol’ buddy ol’ pal old friend of mine, I'm staying right were the fuck I am, Kira’s innocent eyes be damned.’_

Scott grabbed Stiles’ arms and attempted to pull him upright. He tugged on Stiles’ dead weight to which Stiles made an annoyed grunt.

“Stiles’ buddy, if you don’t do at least twenty percent of the work here I'm going to use that wonderful phone you made me get to capture this moment and paste it all over Facebook, Twitter and Instagram.”

“Scott,” Stiles attempted to sound authoritative but it came out all groggy and, yes, whiney. Perfect. “At least put it on Tumblr where it would be appreciated.” Still, he tried to sit up but only managed to lift his head.

Scott laughed, he hadn’t joined Tumblr but knew that Stiles had a bit of a following and the pathetic attempt Stiles was making at sitting up was hilarious. He switched tactics, pushing Stiles onto his back and swinging his legs so that his feet were on the ground. Next he pulled Stiles up so that he was sitting upright, albeit using the backrest to support his weight.

“Remember that frat party we went to after you got back?” Scott asked. “Where you had to carry me? And I was covered in beer after the failed keg stand, and how you complained, for weeks, about feeling my semi against your shoulder. Well at least I was clothed.” He leaned down, pushed his arms behind Stiles’ thighs and lifted him up onto his shoulder.

They had known each other for years and were completely comfortable being naked around each other, or at least they had been until Stiles had realised his own orientation. They had crapped and showered at the same time on several occasions so a little (ok not so little) dick to chest/shoulder action, in a desperate situation like this, wouldn’t come between them. Yeah Scott would hold it over his head for a while but that's what BFFs are for. 

Scott carried him the short distance to his room, dumped him on the bed, tucked him in and disappeared from the room. Stiles fell asleep instantly.

He woke to Scott shaking his shoulder and calling his name. “Scott—” he whined.

“I was gone for like three seconds Stiles.” Scott told him and began fiddling with something next his bed. He fell asleep again.

“God dammit Stiles! Wake up!”

“Fug off Scott.” Stiles mumbled turning his face into the pillow.

“What time are your classes? You can't miss another Psych or you're gonna get dropped.” Scott told him sympathetically and fuck he was right.

“Class at eleven thirty. Be there eleven.”

“Ok and it’ll take you like half an hour to get up, dressed and over to there so… Hey Siri, wake me up at ten thirty.” ‘ok I set an alarm for ten thirty.’ came the response from the phone. “And Siri, make sure I'm awake by ten thirty-five.” Scott added knowing Stiles would snooze the first alarm. ‘ Your ten thirty-five alarm is on’ came its diligent response.

Scott continued to converse with his phone but Stiles was too far gone to catch his exact words. Before he left he pressed his hand to Stiles’ shoulder and these words Stiles caught, “Don’t know what’s been up with you lately buddy. I hope you know I'll always be here for you.” He paused and Stiles whined a sad pitiful sound. “I love you buddy and when you get home from class you're going to tell me all about last night.”

“Nuh uh”

“Uh huh,” Scott mocked copying Stiles’ preschool tone before pressing a fatheresque goodnight (good morning?) kiss to the side of Stiles head. He really was the best friend anyone could ask for. No wonder he had had so few friends growing up, it would have been unfair to everyone else if he had had multiple friends **and** Scott.

He woke to the blaring melody of his alarm and true to form snoozed the annoying sound before promptly falling back to sleep, only to be woken up five minutes later. He angrily snoozed that one too. His phone ran not a minute later. He answered with a sound only a tired person could truly master.

“Stiles get up. Now!” it was Isaac.

“Nhhmm.”

“Stiles,” he could hear the impatience in his voice, “Get. The fuck. Out of bed. You have a class in half an hour and I have customers.” He didn’t wait to see if Stiles complied; hanging up a soon as the last syllable left his mouth.

Reluctantly Stiles sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, stretching and yawning. He was still very tired but he had slept enough that he would be functional after a cup of coffee or two.

He stood up, realised he was naked and laughed at the awkwardness of the morning situation, Scott really was an grade a friend. He dressed, foregoing a shower. Before going to wash his face he went to the kitchen to switch the coffee machine on only to find it on and just enough for a cup sitting in the glass carafe. A bright purple ‘Post-it’ was stuck to the handle:

_‘Fresh brewed 5min ago’_

And below that an arrow pointing to the right. Stiles followed its direction and saw his usual cup with another note, this one bright green:

_‘One sugar and a splash of milk’_

Another arrow which pointed to the toaster and another note, this one the usual yellow:

_‘2 x pop tarts blueberry (unfrosted)  
hurry up or you're gonna be late’_

Scott really was the best friend anyone could ever ask for. He depressed the handle on the toaster, poured his coffee, and while he waited for the toaster to pop he went to wash his face and dress.  He returned to hot pop tarts. Which he ate too quickly, he was running late, burning his mouth a little. He chugged the coffee (which was at goldilocks temperature) and all but ran out the apartment. He was clambering down the stairs when he got a text from…

Scott: _Stop by at Malama Isaac has something for you. DND in class._

Had it not been for the _do not disturb_ Stiles would have phoned him to pledge his first born, or his own country once Stiles completed his plan for world domination; whichever Scott preferred.

Stiles contained his urge to skip to the coffee shop, but only just and it was probably due more to his exhaustion than self control. It was the perfect start to what could have been a truly horrendous day.  Not even stepping in a puddle of dog pee could dampen his spirits.

Isaac met him at the counter, a 20 oz to-go cup in one hand a confectionary bag in the other.

“Triple shot with milk, I might have overdone the sugar but I'm sure you won’t mind too much,” he winked, “and a fresh choc-chip brownie, still hot anda bran muffin, got to be sort of healthy.”

“God Isaac, you and Scott are the fucking best! How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing, gift from Scott and me. I expect details about last night, details you won’t share with Scott yet. But you need to hurry, you're gonna be late.”

“Oh god ok, least I owe. Thanks Isaac.” He smiled from ear to ear, he had the best friends a person could ask for. He stopped at the door and turned to Isaac, “here’s a titbit that should get you by until I can give more _deets_ ; Greek god’s name is Derek.” He grinned at the befuddled look on Isaac’s face, twinkled his fingers and swooshed out on to the street.

The coffee was a little sweet but it was perfect all the same, as was the still warm brownie and muffin. He got to class with five minutes to spare. When his lecturer saw him in the front row, she nodded a greeting.

* * *

Derek

Derek was tired. He couldn’t remember ever being this tired. He had got home from his Wednesday night shift at two am and then had woken early the next day to help his Sister move before rushing off to work where he met the guy from the park. And god was the guy, _Stiles_ , clumsy. Spilling drinks here and there while dancing along to pop music the DJ was mixing, Gaga, Ke$ha and other gay anthems that he had never appreciated until he saw Stiles swaying his slim, provocative hips in time with the beat. He could feel a fixation developing and, god help him, he couldn’t resist.

He wanted those hips grinding against his. He wanted them writhing under his ministrations. He wanted them pressed against the back of his thighs while –

He cut the thought there, having to readjust himself under the table of the 24 hour coffee shop.

So yes he was tired, he’d been on the go for twenty two hours and had done heavy lifting the day before but in front of him, across the table, sat Stiles, the guy from the park; the guy he thought he’d never see again.

And god could Stiles talk.

He was tired, that was obvious but it didn’t seem dampen his verbal  diarrhoea. Right now he was telling him how he had referred to Derek as his Greek god, pulling the blood to both of their cheeks. Derek felt something tug inside him when he heard Stiles refer to him as ‘ _his_ ’

“You told people about me?” Derek asked genuinely surprised and happy.

“Well, yeah. Like our… encounter sort of lead me to coming out.” Stiles winked at encounter before quickly adding, “Partially. Like Scott and my dad and everyone back home don’t know. But I told my newer friends. They said they knew already but I don’t think Scott knows, my dad definitely doesn’t. I'm bi by the way in case you wanted to know. Hope that isn’t a problem. And yeah I told them about you. Like how could I not? You're like,” he waved his hand at Derek, “practically perfect, like Greek godesque and you totally called rain check so you must have been into me despite me running like full speed into you but it was more than just your looks. You seemed like you might be a really nice person, a good person y’know? And it felt like we had known each other, for like, a long time I mean that's why I never asked your name or number. And we were both kind of stupid for that, and luckily the universe, or maybe you really are a Greek god and Zeus, played matchmaker.”

Derek laughed full and open, “I'm not a Greek god but I am very glad that our stupidity didn’t result in us never meeting again. I might have resorted to running in the park during all my free time.”

“Oh my god! That would totally have worked! I was planning on doing the same thing! Isaac says I'm a stalker.”

“Well, if your stalking tendency are limited to only trying to find me again I _think_ I might be able to overlook them.” _I’m flirting if only Laura could see me now. She’d probably comment on my total lack of suaveness._ “So you're not out then?” he smiled to show that it wasn’t a deal breaker.

It wasn’t reassuring enough apparently, “I uh no I’m uh not. Not sure how’d they’d take it. I can't risk years of friendship and like a place to, y’know, sleep at night.” Stiles stammered out.

“I’m lucky in that regard. My youngest sister was caught making out with a girl under the bleachers. The school called my parents in to discuss her ‘flagrant homosexual depravity’. Cora recorded the entire meeting. My parents sat there listening to the blatant homophobia and when the principle finally ran out of steam my parents stood up and walked out. Cora’s recording was used in the court case. The principle lost his job, in protest half of the PTA quit, good riddance and all that. We sued the school and donated the money to [The Ali Forney Center](http://www.aliforneycenter.org/index.cfm?). I came out a week after the meeting. It turns out, Cora’s straight she only kissed the girl on a dare.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, we had a coming out party and everything. It was horrible.”

“Oh. So you're…”

“I’m?” he knew what Stiles meant but he saw an opportunity to help the guy along, to make him more comfortable with who he was.

“You’re uh happy?”

“Yeah I'm happy, but that's not what you were going to ask.”

“It wasn’t?”

“No. Go on ask me. It’s not rude. In fact assuming one thing or another can be considered more of a taboo than simple ignorance, so go on ask me.”

“Oh ok I, uh, I'm not used to this. So don’t hate me. Like, I only had my sexual awakening like not even a year ago.”

“That's fine Stiles, I try not to judge people. Especially when it’s ignorance that leads to a faux pas.”

“Faux pas? I'm impressed. So tell me Derek, what is your orientation? Wait is that the right word? Shit I'm really bad at this.”

“Yes, that's fine, for me at least, some people might not like that but you really can't make everyone happy and there's a myriad, a rabbit’s hole, of genders and sexualities so it’s best to ask. And to answer your curiosity, I'm pansexual.”

“Oh ok yeah. I keep having to remind myself not to categorise everyone into binary labels. And what exactly is pansexual.”

“Well you self identify as bisexual, right? Bi means two so that means you're attracted to men and women. Pan means all, so gender and sex don’t factor into whether or not I'm attracted to someone.”

“Oh that's cool. I mean that’s like… oh god.  I'm really sorry, if I could I’d walk around with my foot in my mouth.”

“Relax. And just tell me what you're trying to say.”

“It’s like noble or something. Like you don’t judge on that, on gender and sex and stuff, so you're like the perfect person, like the exact opposite of homophobia, like the anti-phobia-christ except the antichrist is supposed to be so your more like…”

Derek laughed, hard and loud. Yeah what Stiles was saying could be considered offensive but he could see the good will intended behind the slightly insulting words and they were both really, really tired.

“I get what you're saying, but it’s totally not like that. I’m just attracted to people, always have been. It actually took me a long time to understand why people preferred one gender or sex over others.”

“Oh ok yeah I can get that. You probably didn’t even know what to ‘come out’ as right?”

“Yeah. It was really confusing for me but I lucked upon an article and that lead to more articles and eventually I was able to find something that I could define myself as.”

“I was also really confused. Like when I self loved,” Stiles laughed and embarrassed laugh, “I would sometimes picture guys. And like when I watched straight porn I would often find myself thinking about the guy, or like looking at his junk imagining me in the girls place. Naturally I found my way in to gay porn and then one day I discovered the ‘bisexual’ category and it didn’t really fulfil my, uh curiosity . I was in denial for a really long time and eternally single but then I met this girl and we were dating, she was my first everything, but despite me being really, really attracted to her, my attractions to guys never went away and that just confused me more. I think that's what lead to our eventual breakup. We’re still really good friends now but it was only after we broke up that I reached enlightenment and oh my god I just broke the biggest most important rule of the first date.”

“What’s that?”

“Never, ever talk about an ex. Oh god.”

“Well if you give me your number I'll consider letting it slide.”

“Oh you smooth fucker.” Derek raised a eyebrow unsure if that was a compliment but then Stiles made grabby hands so he slid his phone across the table. “Good. I don’t think I could date someone who wasn’t an apple supporter. Although in your case I’d consider converting. You that is. I’d consider converting you. No one will come between me my favourite brand.”

Derek just shook his head and took the phone when Stiles gave his own.  He saved his number as D. in case someone happened to go through his phone. He didn’t want to risk this, whatever it was, on Stiles being forcefully outed.

“Look I had a really, really good time tonight, working and coffee and everything but I have an eleven am class so I really have to get going.” Stiles told him with a mournful tone.

“That's alright, I'll text you in the morning. Sorry, if I’d known you had an class tomorrow I never would have dragged you down here.”

“Sweetheart, you can drag me anywhere.” Stiles told him faux serious.

“Ok _sweetheart_ , I might just hold you to that. Do you need a lift? I’d prefer you not walking the streets in the predawn hours.”

“If it’s not a hassle…”

“Nope no hassle at all.”

Stiles tried to stand up but their feet were tangled underneath the table so he ended up collapsing onto the table knocking over their empty cups. Derek tried not to laugh, he really did.

* * *

They were parked outside Stiles’ apartment building. He was as reluctant for Stiles to go as Stiles was but Stiles yawned which had Derek doing the same. And that signalled the end of the night. They wished each other goodnight and shared a few chaste goodnight kisses before Stiles finally, regretfully managed to open the door. Before he actually managed to step out they shared a deeper, more intimate kiss but with only the hint of tongue.

“Uhgd, I have to go.” Stiles groaned pulling away. I'm going to be so dead tomorrow. Uhhh today. The things I do for… for uh…”

Derek laughed, “Go sleep Stiles, before you break something that can't be paid for.”

“One mug Derek, one.”

“Uh huh. Oh by the way, I don’t know if anyone told you but we all take turns being designated driver, tonight is gonna be Lydia. We’ll work you into the schedule once Danny goes. Uh I shouldn’t be saying anything but I recommend you drink lots of water today and maybe try take a nap before coming in.”

“Oh that doesn’t sound ominous at all.” He leaned over and gave Derek one last kiss. “Goodnight, see you soon.”

“Good night,” Derek replied a glint of evil, no doubt evident in his eye, “sweetheart.”

Stiles

He was half way through his class when his phone made a noise.

“Turn it off or put it on silent. And would someone wake that buffoon at the back. This is a class ladies, gentlemen and variations there upon not your bedroom.”

There was loud noise from the back and everyone turned to see Greenburg clambering back into his seat. Stiles uses the distraction to check his phone, it was a reminder:

_Don’t forget to respond to D she left you a msg._

He unlocked his phone trying to hide it in his lap but he was in the front row and  it was pointless.

“Something more interesting Mr. Stilinski?”

“Uh no ma’am. Just uh putting it on silent.” He held the phone up.

“Good, because I'm fluent in Russian and won’t have any problem pronouncing your Polish name Mr. Stilinski.”

Oh god no. He dropped his phone into the backpack at his feet.

“That's what I thought, ok as you all know doubt know you have a test coming up and you have all no doubt been studying. So I'm sorry to disappoint you all but due to a schedule conflict we are going to have to move it to next month. I will let you know next week about the date. For now if someone could give a brief summary of why Freud’s theories may no longer have a place in modern day psychology? Be careful this may or may not be a trick question.”

It wasn’t the first time she had used that line, so it really didn’t mean anything. He suspected it was a) a tactic to throw people off; b) her way of encouraging intelligent thinking; or c) part of a pattern that would be revealed if he attended more classes. _Most likely all of the above._

The class continued relatively uneventfully after that, but he found it harder to concentrate even more than usual. What with the lack of sleep and an apparent text from Derek. Mercifully the professor dismissed them ten minutes early. Before he did anything he fished his phone out of his backpack.

Derek: _Don’t forget water and a nap._

Stiles wanted to reply, he really did but he had no idea what to say. He needed advice. Erica it was but he had his second class in twenty minutes. He could get to the coffee shop and back in that time  but he couldn’t spend more than a few minutes actually talking and that was if she was actually on shift. So he would have to resort to texting.

Stiles: _Need texting advice._  
 _Think you can help?_

He had enough time to pack his stuff and get out his seat before her response came:

Erica: _Hmm maybe but it’s going to cost you._  
 _Stiles: How much?_  
Erica: Details. _How do you know his name?_  
Stiles: _I’m going to kill Isaac._  
Dear _NSA agent reading my previous text, that was a joke. I have no intention of committing murder._  
 _Get this, he works at the bar‼ We are going to be co workers‼‼‼_  
 _Eeeeeek‼_  
Erica:   _Really Stiles was that necessary? Your text probably wouldn’t have shown up until you went and typed their acronym. And what?_  
Stiles: _Yeah well I'm not taking chances._  
Yep. _He’s the grumpy assholeish guy I was supposed to be working with only I haven’t seen a hint of assholeness at all._  
 _After work we went for coffee and only got home at like 4 45 I'm so fucking tired._  
Erica: _oh… just coffee??_  
Stiles: _Yes just coffee._  
Erica: _Hmmm you're no fun… so what do you need help with??_  
Stiles: _So right before I got out the car he like told me to drink lots of water and to get a nap before work tonight and I think that means some sort of initiation thingy and I don’t think he was supposed to say anything but he did and I think its bcos he like, ‘like’ likes me and I like really ‘like’ like him and I sound like a grade schooler but I really like this guy and I'm freaking out bcos he sent me a text this morning reminding me to hydrate and nap and I didn’t see it until now bcos I crashed on the couch and Scott put me to bed this morning and set a reminder for me to see and now he wants to know who ‘D’ is and I'm freaking the fuck out‼‼‼‼‼‼‼‼‼‼‼‼‼‼_  
 _ERICA‼‼‼‼‼HELP‼‼!_

Apparently his texts had managed to convey the sheer panic he was feeling because instead of replying, Erica phoned him.

_“God Stilinski; I didn’t need a fucking essay. So this whole thing is because you don’t know what to respond with?”  
“Yes, well that and because it’s been so long since I got the message and what if he thinks I'm not into him and then also Scott wants to know who D is and oh god Erica I don’t want to lie to him anymore and if I—”  
“OH MY GOD STILES SHUT UP! You reply with this: _ on it thanks. Can't wait to see you tonight. _He’s obviously into you so there’s no need to pretend to be aloof or some stupid shit like that. Ok?”_  
“Oh, uh thanks Erica. I, uh, didn’t mean to piss you off… sorry.”  
“It’s fine sweetie we’ve all been there. But as for your Scott problem; there’s only one way you can stop lying to him and frankly I don’t want to hear about that particular problem unless you need help coming out ok?”  
“Uh ok sorry..”  
“Stiles,” she sounded extremely exasperated, “I'm not angry at you and I do empathise with  you, I really do. But I’ve been through this before and it really messed up a friendship so I’m not going through it again ok?”  
“Ok, I understand. Thank you.”  
“So what are you wearing tonight?”

His third and final class ended at two thirty and he was wrecked, he was so tired and borderline delirious. He had crashed from his coffee high and was still sitting in his seat when the TA had packed up his things.

“Something I can help you with Stilinski?”

“Nope,” Stiles replied popping the p,  “I'm just…” he flailed his hand in the general direction of the exit.

“Rough night?”

“Yep, new job.”

“Uh huh. You drive here?”

“Nope. Live a couple blocks away.”

“You  need a lift?”

“Uh um. If you're trying to get into my pants I already have a totally Greek Derek and I don’t think he’ll take kindly to that.” The TA’s face showed mild humour so Stiles continued, “He has muscles,” Stiles gestured to his own, much smaller biceps, “Like this big and he’s like totally ripped. Like you're ripped but he’s rippeder, rippedest?”

“Come on Stilinski, get up.”

Stiles complied, he followed the TA, he couldn’t remember his name, to his car. There he plopped into the passenger seat.

When the TA got in the driver’s side, Stiles was sucking greedily on the water bottle he found in the cup holder. 

The TA quirked an eyebrow at him in question.

“Derek said to hydrate, sorry.”

The TA nodded as if that explanation was sufficient and asked, “Which way.”

“Thater way,” Stiles pointed in the general direction of his apartment, “Left on Crescent and then a right onto Mason ave.  Now mush”

The TA chuckled to himself and followed the directions but when they turned onto Crescent Stiles saw the coffee shop.

“Wait! Wait! Find somewhere to park! I need to say thank you.”

Reluctantly the TA followed instructions and after parking escorted Stiles across the street and into Malama.

“Erica! Erica!”

“God Stiles are you drunk?”

“Nope. Just needed to come say thanks. So uh thanks.”

“You're drunk,” She accused.

“Am not! Unless,” Stiles turned to the TA and shook the almost empty water bottle at him, “was this booze?”

“No just… water,” he replied softly.

“Oh gosh I'm so rude! This is Erica,” he swung around to face Erica again splashing the counter with water. “Erica this is… is.. uh fuck I forgot your name.”

“Boyd, Vernon Boyd but just Boyd.”

“Boyd, right,” Stiles smiled, “Boyd, Erica. Erica, Boyd. How do you do and please to meet ya.”

“Stiles?” a soft voice called from somewhere in the shop.

Stiles spun around looking for the now familiar voice. He somehow managed to get his feet tangled in his spinning and landed on his hands and knees.

“Oh god Stiles are you really going to do this every time we meet?”

“Can't help it.” Derek hauled him up to his feet. “Boyd, Erica this is Derek. See Boyd I told you he was rippedester.”

“Are you drunk? I said water Stiles, do you know how much alcohol…” Derek cut off as if he had been giving away a secret or something.

“‘m not drunk. Just tired. Like really fucking tired.”

“I was just driving him home, when he made me come in here. He said he needed to thank someone.” Boyd told Derek , his eyes kept shifting back to Erica.

“Erica, she helped me with… with uh you.”

“Me?”Derek asked with a curious mixture of amusement and concern.

“Yeah, with the text.”

“Oh ok well uh let’s get you home. Is it ok if I walk you home?”

“Please. Bye Boyd. Bye Erica. Oh, bye Laura.”  Derek walked him to the door, where he turned back, “Thanks Boyd and Erica too. Bye buh now.” And then in a mock whisper, “Derek’s walking me home.” He winked at Erica who looked incredulous.  He wasn’t surprised, Derek was way, way out of his league.

“What’s up with Laura? I've haven’t seen the i-will-kill-you-and-your-offspring eyes since my first week.” Stiles asked rhetorically. “Fancy bumping into you when I'm at my lowest. I swear I'm not even normally this bad when I'm drunk. Scouts honour. Can drink like a sailor.”

“Uh huh.”

Stiles babbled more nonsense right up until they were standing outside his apartment door. Suddenly he was staring at Derek and Derek was staring at him and he wanted to kiss Derek and was really confused as to why Derek hadn’t brought his wonderful, stubble crowned lips to his when the door opened.

“Stiles?” Scott asked worried and confused.

Stiles jumped like he had been electrocuted. He fumbled for an excuse as to why he was standing across from this Greek god of a man making kissy eyes but Derek, his knight in shining armour, saved the day.

“I'm friends with Erica from the coffee shop…”

“Oh yeah Erica…”

“He stumbled in, I don’t think he’s had any sleep, maybe a bit drunk. She asked me to make sure he got home.”

“Oh uh thanks. I'll uh take him off your hands.” Derek responded with a curt nod and turned to go.

“Bye Derek,” Stiles was too tired to keep the wistful tone out of his voice. “See you later.”

“Water and sleep. Come in by seven.”

“But shift starts at five thirty.”

“I'll cover for you just be there by Seven ok?”

“Ok thanks.” He smiled at Derek and Derek smiled back but he looked really uncomfortable.

“Sift?” oh god Stiles had forgotten about Scott.

Derek turned back from the first step, “I'm a bartender at… from the bar.”

“Oh ok cool, thanks for uh bringing him home. I'll make sure he gets there by Seven.”

Derek nodded and disappeared around the corner. While they went into the apartment.

Isaac and Kira were sitting in the living room.

“Hi guys, I'm totally not drunk, haven’t had any alcohol just really tired.”

They gave him disbelieving looks.

“No this is how he gets, you should have seen him during finals. It was ridiculous.” Scott told them while walking Stiles to his bedroom. To put him to bed for the second time in one day.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh cute BFF Scott and Stiles. Nunus Scott really is a great friend. I hope Stiles can realise that Scott loves him no matter what. And it looks like Erica is going to find some lovin of her own.  
> I was going to make this chapter longer, like until at least after that night's shift but after writing and deleting the same paragraph three times I decided it would be better to give this to you now and focus on the next paragraph with a clear, fresh mind.  
> I already have an idea of how Stiles is going to come out so maybe we might see that in a few chapters. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed. 
> 
> And as always, feel free to correct me on my mistakes and if you'd like to, give me hints or like mini promts.


	4. Shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is introduced to the bar's themed Kink Fridays.  
> Ok so it's not so much kink this week as it is themed but hey where there's a will there's a way and Lydia is ever the helpful friend/fiend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We finally earn our rating, yay! Stiles and Derek engage in the consumption of copious amounts of alcohol. Yum! Also did I mention, body shots? no? Hmmm...
> 
> Oh and in case you're wondering an ABC theme is Anything But Clothes, not that tonight's theme is that just an FYI :) 
> 
> Enjoy

Stiles

So it turns out Friday nights are kink nights, usually with some sort of theme; _saints and sinners, Dungeons and Drag Queens, Decades and, of course everyone’s favourite, ABC;_ to bad nobody mentioned that to Stiles.

Tonight was High School Memories and Lydia had been all to happy to help. There he stood, black _Calvin Klein_ briefs, hipster glasses, and a elastic bowtie and nothing else except his alabaster skin. His only solace, the copious amount of alcohol he was going to be forced (ok so not really forced) to consume. That and what the others were wearing.

He had seen Danny on his way in, wearing short shorts and shoulder pads that he recognised from his lacrosse days. Kali had apparently been a stripper or maybe an escort because Stiles could not identify what she was dressed as. Lydia was expertly pulling off the slutty nerd look, white stockings with her suspenders disappearing underneath a very short plaid skirt, white button-down shirt knotted in the middle showing off her toned stomach and curves, her hair tied into pigtails. Stiles had also seen two of the other bartenders dressed as cheerleaders, he was surprised how much the guy, Ethan, wearing a mini skirt and crop top turned him on.

Once Stiles was dressed, admittedly it took longer to accept his situation than it did to actually dress, he returned with Lydia to the bar. The prep was all done and the bartenders were talking casually. The conversation stopped once they got an eyeful of Stiles.  
“Damn!” Ethan effervesced, dragging out the word.  
Danny quirked an eyebrow and nodded approvingly, smacking Kali’s hand away before she could pinch Stiles.  
Stiles could feel the heat in his face, probably splotchy; being shirtless meant there was nothing to conceal the blush as it spread to his chest.

The conversation picked up again, only now they were talking about previous costumes, Stiles didn’t follow it instead he tried to casually look around for Derek.

He tried to guess what Derek was dressed as tonight. He pegged Derek for a basketball player but couldn’t formulate a sexy outfit that would showcase that. _Maybe a baseball player…_ tight pants that accentuated his package and bubble butt… _Footballer?_ Jockstrap and shoulder pads… _Yum, na definitely not football as hot as it would be he hadn’t been a footballer Stiles was sure. Maybe he was arty but… Swim team? Or Lifeguard? Tight red Speedo yes please!_

Ten minutes later he had still not seen Derek but had been drawn into the conversation.

“Yeah I wasn’t you typical nerd. I mean like I studied my ass off and spent way too much time behind my computer or with my nose buried in a book but I was on the lacrosse team, ok well the lacrosse bench anyway. Guess I was more geeky than nerdy, I wore two shirts for years,” he laughs, “looking back now I don’t know what I was thinking.”  
“ _You_ played lacrosse?” Kali scoffed.  
“Well I warmed the bench mostly, but yeah,  got MVP in one game.”  
“I was goalkeeper all through high school.” Danny told them.  
“Yeah I can see that, bet you caught all the balls.”  
“Really Kali? Gay Jokes?”  
She shrugged it off, “Did you expect anything else?”

Before Danny could retort, Stiles’ chuckling was cut off by two strong arms wrapping around his stomach and soft lips, contrasted by coarse stubble, pressed against his neck.  
He shuddered before batting Derek away.  
“You can't do things like that,” Stiles chided, “I haven’t got much to keep mini-me restrained.”  
Derek let out a soft moan at Stiles’ words, the others were gaping.

“The fuck guys!” Lydia exclaimed, “When did this happen?” She turned her glare on Stiles, “And why didn’t you tell me?”

Before Stiles could answer Emma appeared saving him, “Doors open in ten . I see you're still not conforming Derek. You should take some pointers from Stiles.”

Stiles turned around to look at Derek for the first time that night. He was so not dressed to the theme.

“OK if he gets to wear everyday clothes so do I. Wait let me rephrase that, If I'm dressing as some kind of kinky nerd then you are at the very least bearing major skin mister.”  
Derek sighed in lieu of a response.  
“Lydia, would you so kind as to help Derek here find something more… appropriate to wear?”  
“Sure thing sweetie, we’ll be back in no time at all.” She looped her arm through Derek’s, who sighed again before lightly pecking Stiles’ cheek and being all but dragged off by Lydia.

The doors opened shortly before Derek and Lydia returned. The night blew by in a haze of alcohol. When Stiles woke the next afternoon he vaguely remembered doing body shots off both Derek and Lydia and at some point being sent to go put a pair of pants on by Derek, apparently Derek didn’t like people eyeing out his semi. He had no clue as to how he got home or into bed at least it was a Saturday.

* * *

Derek

Burt had asked him to come in early so that they could discuss Stiles. He wanted to know if Derek thought that Stiles was a good ft.  
“Him being closeted and only recently having admitted his sexuality to himself might be a bit of a problem down the line but I think he’ll fit in here well.”  
“I thought so too. I hear you’ve taken over his training.” Although he didn’t say it outright his words clearly alluded to the unusual (for Derek at least) behaviour.  
“We’re… we met before this. We’re sort of a thing. It won’t affect our work.”  
“I had a few customers comment on the two of you last night.”  
Derek nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.  
“You don’t seem worried,” Burt observed.  
“I’m not.”  
“And why is that?”  
“We made over three hundred in tips between us and despite being a quiet night we cashed up over two thousand not to mention the propositions we received.”  
“Ah I see. OK very well Derek. Let’s see how tonight goes.”

Derek was halfway through the door when Burt asked half heartedly, “Do try conform to the theme. If only to set a good example for Stiles.” Derek grunted noncommittally.

He began the prep while Danny and the others were dressing.

He came out about when Derek was about halfway done.  
“Go get dressed, I'll finish up here.”  
“I told Stiles I’d cover for him. He’s going to come in before seven.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yes. We went for coffee after last night and I kept him up until too late so I told him I’d cover for him so that he could rest a bit before work.”  
“That was nice of you.”Danny told him, his curiosity conspicuous in his tone but he managed to keep it internalised. Derek was going to miss him when he left.

Derek was disappointed with the night’s theme. Had it been something else he would have dressed up, he wanted to show Stiles his ‘fun’ side. He had wanted to wear a leather outfit he had had for months but had never had the courage to wear but it didn’t fit the night’s theme.

He had nothing to wear that would fit into the theme, and not in the ‘ _I have a hundred outfits I’m just not feeling any of them’_ sort of way. He literally didn’t have anything that fit his high school experience and came off as kinky or even slightly sexual; a must for a Kink Fridays.

He groaned, grabbing a towel and heading for the showers. Yeah he had showered right before leaving home but what else could he do procrastinate?

He heard Stiles arguing with Lydia; _“I’m_ not _wearing that!”_  
“Yes you are.”  
“Oh my god Lydia, this isn’t even an outfit.”  
“Yes it is. You see this?” There was a brief silence and Derek assumed she was turning around. _“You can see the bottom my ass. And my tits? You think I like having them on display like this?”_ Derek had known Lydia for over a year now and knew that the answer to that was yes. She used anything and everything to show her dominance. Wearing something extremely provocative was one of her most used cards.  
 _“Yes, I’ve known you for less than a day and even I can tell you love the attention.”_  
“Ok fine,”  She conceded, _“but you're wearing this, end of story.”_  
“Uh, fine but when I pop a woody I’m blaming you.” Derek felt his cock stirring at the thought of Stiles scantily clad and hard in public. _“This leaves nothing to the imagination Lydia! Uh you can totally tell that I'm circumcised!”_ His voice became harder to hear as they made their way out of the change rooms but Derek heard his last word clear enough.  
An involuntary groan escaped from him. He was fully hard now.  
Biting on his lip in an attempt to keep silent, he wrapped his hand around his cock and quickly brought himself to a climax.

He stood in front of his locker staring at the various outfits trying to come up with something, anything. An indeterminate amount of time later Derek gave up. He grabbed a pair of form fitting jeans and Tee. Yeah he was probably going to let Stiles down but he’d explain it to him later and all would be forgiven.

Dressed he ventured out, he gasped when he saw Stiles. His cute bubble butt sheathed in the black fabric, the expanse of his back, smooth and creamy were it not for the scattering of mole. If he hadn’t jerked off in the shower Derek would undoubtedly be rock hard now, all  the same his cock was making a valiant attempt.

He came up behind Stiles, ignoring the looks the others were giving him, he warped his arms around Stiles’ stomach, dragging his fingers along the smooth skin where until yesterday there had been an treasure trail. He lightly pressed his lips against Stiles’ neck, revelling in the shudder he caused.

Then Stiles talked about his cock, _his circumcised cock_ , and Derek couldn’t help but groan at that.

The others were flabbergasted and he loved it. So maybe he was a bit of an exhibitionist, who cares.

Stiles had yet to see that he wasn’t dressed up and he was both relieved and troubled. He had never been a rip the band aid off kind of guy, more like ignore it until it fell off by itself or ceased to exist. So there he stood just behind Stiles hands twitching, begging to touch the beautiful pale expanse in front  of him.

The pale expanse Lydia had apparently been crapping on, he hadn’t even noticed that anyone was talking until her last few words.  
And then Emma came down and Stiles turned and saw him.

He was relieved that Stiles’ tone was more teasing than annoyed. He allowed Lydia to drag him off but not before he got to kiss Stiles again. Enjoying the bush it brought to his beautiful, expressive face.

“Come on Derek, we’re going to find you something to impress your boy toy with. Why didn’t you dress up anyway? Stiles clearly would have loved that.”  
Derek replied with a mumble.  
“What’s that?” she asked not unkindly.  
“I never went to high school.” Derek admitted shamefaced.  
“What? But you're in university…”  
“Homeschooled.”  
“Ah well that's ok,” she encouraged sweetly, “we’ll find you something.”

She flicked through his collection of clothes before settling on his final outfit.

“You ok with this?” She asked kindly.  
“Yes. Thank you.”  
“Good. now hurry up and dress. We’re going to be late.”

Derek lifted his shirt over his head dropping it onto the bench before he began working his skin-tight jeans off.  
“Oh you're going to do that here. Ok. You don’t have shame do you?”  
Derek shrugged, “What’s there to be ashamed about?”  
“Only some people can pull cocky off Derek,” she chided.  
“You're right,” he conceded before adding, “and both of us pull it off just fine.”  
“You're not wrong.”

He stepped out of the dark blue boxer briefs and grabbed what Lydia had chosen for him. It took even less time for him to dress than it had Stiles.

“Ok now, makeup.”  
“Makeup?” his voice an octave higher in panic.  
“Chill you pretty man tits and trust me ok.”

He huffed out air but followed her all the same.

His makeup done; two black stripes on each cheek; they made their way back out to the bar.

He fell right into sync with Stiles who’s black briefs contrasted his white jock strap perfectly.

* * *

Stiles

As much as he wanted to he was too busy at first to look at Derek.

A long queue had formed outside the bar and they had been busy since opening. The majority of the customers had dressed according to the theme, to varying degrees. But eventually the opportunity to actually see how Derek was dressed presented itself.

There was a temporary lull, an _‘All About That Bass´_ remix  had come on and everyone had streamed off to the dance floor.

Derek took the opportunity to come up behind Stiles, resting his hand on his hips and talking against his ear so that Stiles could hear, “Don’t I get a comment?”  
“Comment?” he asked turning inside Derek’s arms, “Holy shit! Fuck Derek! You.. No! I can't… shit!”  
Derek  quirked an eyebrow questioning him.  
“You,” he flailed his arms about franticly, in the process accidently hitting Derek’s arms, “can't wear this.”  
“Thought you said I had to show some skin.” His tone overflowing with faux innocence.  
“Jesus Derek you…” his words were cut off when Derek leaned in to kiss him, pausing an inch from Stiles’ lips, waiting for Stiles to close the distance. He did.  
The kiss was brief, Derek pulling away after a few moments, Stiles tried to follow him. “Customers.” Derek chuckled.  
“Right, I'll get right on that.” Derek pecked him quickly.

A few hours passed with Stiles and Derek both stealing glances and touches. Stiles was particularly fond of running his fingers along Derek’s exposed cleft. A part of his brain told him that he might be moving a bit too fast but any worry disappeared when Derek leaned against his back, pressing his package against Stiles while reaching around to the bar so that he could take a shot they had been bought. His free hand sneaked around to cup him. Stiles may or may not have spilled most of the shot.

The night took a turn towards the wild side when two familiar faces appeared in front of him.

“I thought you said it was a bar Stiles, this is a fucking club.” Erica exclaimed excitedly.  
“Eh, bar sounds nicer, besides it’s not really a club…”  
“It’s a club Stiles,” Isaac agreed.  
“Puh-tey-toh; puh-tuh-toh, what can I get you guys?”  
“Any specials?” Erica asked eagerly.  
“Yes, double _Bacardi and coke_ or double tequila shots are going to be two for one in about an hour. It’s the Friday night special.” Derek told them over Stiles’ shoulder, “In the mean time how about we make you guys a couple _Mojitos_ on the house?”  
“Oh Isaac, this is Derek, Greek god from the park, Erica you remember Derek?”  
“Oh, Hi” Isaac gave Derek his trademark dazzling smile.  
“Mojitos sound great, even better if they're free,” Erica chipped in.  
“Coming up,” Derek told them, “Danny, I'm gonna show Stiles how to make Mojitos.”  
“Ok, but these two lovely ladies,” Danny gestured to two men dressed in drag, “have bought us shots, so hurry up.” The queens twinkled the fingers at them and Stiles chuckled.  
“Come on sweet cheeks,” Stiles pinched one of Derek’s exposed cheeks, “can't keep the dames waiting.”

Derek rolled his eyes but quickly went about making a Mojito. Stiles would watch the way Derek’s muscles flowed underneath his dark skin for hours if he could. He copied Derek as best he could and although his wasn’t as good as Derek’s it was a good first attempt.

Only a few minutes later, Isaac and Erica had their drinks in hand and Stiles and Derek were throwing some creamy concoction back with Danny and the drags.

When ‘two for one’ hour came things became manic. The music had picked up a notch and the bar was overflowing with customers. Stiles lost track of how many of the second  shots had been given to him. By the end of the hour he was definitely buzzed.

“God how do you guy manage with all the shots?” Stiles asked Danny.  
“You ever watch _Coyote Ugly_? See my beer? Take a whiff.” The sharp fumes of tequila and other shots assaulted Stiles nose.  
“Gaah! The fuck is that?”  
“I chase the shots with beer, only I actually just spit the shot back into the beer bottle.”  
“Oh my god I totally remember that scene!”

The trick however had its limitations.

It was nearing midnight when Erica returned from the dance floor, the night was still going strong and Stiles had managed to sober up a little, Derek kept feeding him water and Danny’s Coyote Ugly trick really helped, but Erica was having none of that.

She and Isaac had been receiving all the drinks Derek was teaching Stiles to make but they had still been buying drinks, mostly from Lydia. Stiles worried that his own plan of world domination would be threatened if those two became friends.

Stiles watched as she leaned across the bar and spoke something into Lydia’s ear but before he could get a sense of what was happening a customer appeared and ordered a round of drinks.

By the time he was done with the round of drinks Kali had disappeared and Lydia was manning their station on her own but it wasn’t long before she returned. Stiles smelled a rat and the sent only grew stronger when Lydia leaned across the bar  and to tell Erica something, who burst out laughing pulling Isaac towards her, he joined in with her laughter eyes flicking to Stiles. It became a stench when Lydia caught Danny’s eyes and nodded. He quickly slipped past Stiles said something to Derek before walking off to tell Ethan and the other bartender dressed as a cheerleader something.

The song currently playing ended and the DJ’s voice confirmed all of Stiles’ suspicions.

* * *

Derek

“It’s happening now.” Danny told him.

Derek nodded and continued to serve the customer he was busy with. He told the next customer that the bar would be closed for the next ten minutes but to stay close, “…you don’t want to miss the show.”  The customer looked at him quizzically but stayed put.

The current song came to an end, it had been something base heavy with very repetitive lyrics, and the DJ began the initiation that Derek had tried to prepare Stiles for.

 _We’re gonna get back to the music in a little bit_ , she told everyone, _but first we have a little something we’ve got to do. Now those of you who are regulars might have recognised a new face behind the bar. Although you probably weren’t look at his face._ _Could you wave your hand please sweetie so everyone know who I'm talking about._ The crowd chuckled getting her joke. _He’s here to because our dear friend Danny_ , Danny raised his hand, _is moving on to bigger and brighter places and next week Friday is gonna be his last day so I expect you all to be here to wish him a good bye. But tonight is our newbie’s first Kink Friday so that means, shots!_ LMFAO’s  ‘Shots’ began playing in the background.  

Lydia and Ethan placed eleven shot glasses in front of Stiles and filled each with a different colour liquor.

It was tradition for the newbie and the departing bartender to race, whoever got to the black shot in the middle won. Danny had won when he had been the newbie and had only gained experience since then, Derek didn’t think Stiles stood a chance.  Yeah so he also didn’t want Stiles to win but eh that's a whole different story.

 _Ok the shots are poured and we’re ready to go, this is how it works Danny and the newbie are going to have a little race. Whoever gets to the middle shot wins, the loser… does body shots._  The crowd cheered, whistles and _Whoop, Whoop_ filled the air. _Bartenders are you ready?_ Stiles looked nervous, Danny just smirked. _Three… Two… One…. GO_

Stiles made a valiant effort, they had been neck and neck until the fifth shot, a cinnamon liqueur that made Stiles shudder giving Danny the split second he needed to win. The crowd cheered as Danny slugged back the black liquor.

A short while later Stiles was laying on the bar as Derek lapped alcohol off his skin. He was distracted with swirling his tongue in Stiles’ naval and didn’t notice that Danny was still pouring. The alcohol ran off Stile’s stomach and onto the bar.

When it was his turn to lay on the bar Stiles went full tilt lapping at his skin even after Danny had stopped pouring, a hand coming up to pinch at Derek’s nipple. He had to push Stiles away, his jocks growing tight. Stiles shrugged and kissed him before going down on Lydia. The filthy moans Stiles was making didn’t help with his underwear situation.

The bar opened again and Derek sent Stiles to change, his briefs were soaked in alcohol.

When they finally closed Stiles was too drunk to help with the cash up and Derek only managed because it had become routine.

Lydia was designated driver and drove them to her house because apparently they weren’t drunk enough.

He and Stiles spent most of the time making out on Lydia’s sofa.  They had changed into actual clothing before they cashed up but now Derek wished they hadn’t.

Stiles was lying beneath him, his legs warped around Derek’s as they kissed sloppily, tongues pushing and twisting with each other.  More than one comment had been made about getting a room  but they were both too drunk to care.  
Stiles was grinding up against Derek as best he could while Derek grinded down on Stiles much more effectively.  
Their kisses devolved into panting into each other’s open mouths but before either of them could come in their pants like teenagers Derek dragged Stiles to the bathroom where they shared clumsy mutual hand jobs.

Satiated, they returned to the party. No one seemed to have noticed their temporary absence.

The party continued there until the first rays of dawn began to creep into the sky.

 

A very drunk Derek split a cab with an even more drunk Stiles. He walked Stiles up to his apartment where they shared a few good bye kisses before he stumbled down to the taxi.

* * *

He woke after three, his head screaming bloody murder. Someone was banging at his door.

He stumbled out of bed wearing nothing but boxers to answer the door. “All right all right, I'm coming.”

It was Laura and Cora.

“Wow you _stink_. How much did you drink last night?” Cora’s voice was much too loud.  
“Stop shouting.” Derek retreated into his apartment in search of aspirin and water, his tongue felt like sandpaper and his mouth tasted awful.  
“What time did you get in?” Laura asked in her quiet voice, they had always been alike.  
“Don’t know but the sun was up. Dropped Stiles off first. Lydia dragged us to her place after work.”  
“I don’t know why you still do this to yourself.”  Laura had never approved of Derek working in at Pride, she felt it was below him.  
“Have you seen his digs?” Cora asked still using her _‘too-loud’_ voice. Derek winced.  
“Laura, I just woke up can we not do this now? Please.”  
“Whatever ever Derek.” She got up to make coffee.

“So… How’d last night go?”  
“Cora can you please not shout.”  
“I'm not shouting Derek, this is my everyday voice. If you’d I could demonstrate what shouting really is.” She sucked in a deep breath as if she was preparing to scream.  
“No. It’s ok please no.” She chuckled. “why are you guys here anyway?”  
“We were worried about you. You haven’t replied to any of our message and didn’t pick up your phone.”  
“Oh. I was sleeping.”  
“Yeah I figured.”

Just then Derek’s message tone came from his room. He slowly got up to see who it was.

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to CamaroLady for helping to find Stiles an outfit, I hope you liked my version Sexy nerd Stiles... here's a link to the picture that I found thats supposed to be what I described in case you're curious: https://www.dropbox.com/s/uw64qhoxqhboafw/nerdy.jpg?dl=0  
> And i realised that me calling Pride a bar might be a bit deceptive because its more of a lounge cum nightclub so in case you're curious as to what kind of a thing I've got going on in my head its a mixture of https://www.dropbox.com/s/exz1dh0nm2kog7t/Entertainment_nightclub_1.jpg?dl=0 and this https://www.dropbox.com/s/0kerggulomzm7lf/f29c4db968cf2f17e190682a405f5862.jpg?dl=0
> 
> I hope you enjoyed and obviously any mistakes were my own.  
> More of this to come :D


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